


Ease My Mind

by RikkuRiddle



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII (Video Game 1997), Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, crushing guilt, no! character death, none too graphic injuries I think, tseng has so many regrets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:48:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24934780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RikkuRiddle/pseuds/RikkuRiddle
Summary: Tseng gets the order to kill Rufus and carries it out. At which point does regret still mean something?
Relationships: Rufus Shinra/Tseng
Comments: 9
Kudos: 72





	Ease My Mind

**Author's Note:**

> The fic in which Tseng is in denial about all of his feelings, every single one of them. 
> 
> It's a bit melancholic, partially inspired by Cowboy Bebop and the gut-wrenching underlying sadness of that anime and I've not even watched more than the first episode. Been listening to "Call me call me" of the Cowboy Bebop soundtrack while writing this.
> 
> Many thanks to **HardNoctLife** for betaing this piece!

Tseng leaned against the wall of an old warehouse. 

Hands pushed into the pockets of his pants, he had rested his head against the stone and looked up at the sky. A few lone clouds were floating along. This close to the sea the wind blew up some dust of the old complex. It was completely deserted and nobody was here but him. 

And the target. 

His phone rang. Pulling it from his pocket, he tapped the screen and lifted it up to his ear. 

“Is everything going according to plan?” 

Tseng followed a cloud with his eyes. “Yes, no problems, sir.”

“Good. Call in once it’s done.”

_Once it’s done._

“Of course, sir.” 

The other person ended the call and he slipped the phone back into his jacket pocket after checking the time. It was 3.47pm. The meeting was supposed to take place at 4pm. Except there would be no meeting. 

This was a set-up.

In the distance screamed some seagulls that circled along the coast. 

They were somewhere between Junon and Under Junon. An old abandoned warehouse complex. Apart from the occasional monsters that came out at night the place was perfectly safe during the day. 

Tseng wasn’t a smoker but he wished he had something to do with his hands right now. 

If all went according to plan, he would be back at HQ before midnight and there was no reason why it shouldn’t. Go according to plan, that was. 

He kept his mind purposefully blank. Concentrating on what came next instead of what had come before. 

3.56pm. 

Time to go. 

Pushing off the wall, Tseng turned towards the harbour for a final look before he opened the door to the warehouse and stepped into a dusty hangar lined with columns. Apart from some empty crates and broken chairs, the place was empty. The sunlight filtered through the dirty windows. 

At the other end of the building stood his target, back turned to him. 

Tseng stepped behind one of the columns and drew the gun from the waistband at his back, disabling the safety with a quiet click. For a moment he glanced at the window to his right that looked out towards the sea. It was so caked with dirt that he could hardly make out what lay beyond. 

Somehow his mind strayed to the target lying alone in the warehouse, bleeding out into the dirt. 

It was an odd thought. He shook it off. 

With slow and measured steps, he walked from one column to the next, without making a sound. He would only have to get close enough to ensure a headshot. 

This wasn’t such a bad place to die in. It could be some grimy and dark back alley instead. The place where they most often took someone out. By cover of night. Not like this, in broad daylight, by the sea. 

Tseng almost had to laugh at his own sentimentality. 

He stopped behind another column. 

Close enough. 

_A Turk always completes their job. No matter what._

It was something every Turk prided him- or herself on. It raised them above the rabble. They weren’t just soldiers. They were better trained and had better discipline. 

Well, there were always exceptions. 

Tseng pointed the gun at the target. Back of the head. 

There was an old clock on the wall to his right that surprisingly enough still worked. 

4.08pm. 

Time to get this over with. 

Just as his finger curled around the trigger, the target turned around and noticed him, a flash of surprise in his eyes when they fell on the gun. Tseng fired to the sound of an explosion. 

The shot hit the target in the side, making him double over. Not what he had intended. It would be a slow death. People wrote about poetic deaths. How the light faded from someone’s eyes as their life drained out of them. It was complete nonsense. There was nothing poetic about dying. 

A second later, another explosion, only much closer, shook the ground. 

Raising his gun again, he was aiming for the head but with the target stumbling it was harder to get a clean shot. A third explosion next to the building he was in blew out the windows. 

Tseng raised an arm to shield his face from the shards when realisation hit him. 

The ground shook, cracking open. 

It was a reflex to engage the safety on his gun and stick it into the waistband at his back, even as one of the columns to his right collapsed. He started running towards the target, barely avoiding a part of the ceiling as it crashed down. 

What a neat plan. Somehow he had never considered it. 

The target could hardly keep himself on his feet as the whole building trembled and shook. 

Skidding across the floor, Tseng reached the man, half slumped over, hand pressed against his bleeding side. Just as he grabbed the man’s arm the floor beneath them cracked open and they both plummeted to the floor below. Tseng twisted to have the other man land half on top of him, cushioning his fall. 

The target’s pained shout was drowned out by another explosion and Tseng grimaced at the impact. 

The warehouse had several levels and they immediately fell down another one.

Momentarily dazed, Tseng blinked rapidly to clear his vision and spat out the dirt filling his mouth. The dust in the air made it hard to breathe and see. 

He grabbed the other man and yanked his arm over his shoulders, ignoring the agonised groan as they stumbled to a corridor that led into an adjacent building. It hadn’t collapsed yet and the hallway looked reasonably stable. 

The second building was just in as bad a shape as the first one. Half the ceiling was blown off but he couldn’t see the sky through the dust in the air. 

Tseng kept going, dragging the target around knocked over columns and pieces of roof that littered the floor, while trying to avoid the debris raining down on them. He coughed, spitting out more dirt. His eyes were starting to water. 

There was another explosion that had them stumbling forward but Tseng caught them, jerking the other man back upright before they would fall. 

They had to get out as fast as possible. 

His eyes caught on a door to his left and he headed for it, peering out a window that they passed. They were almost down by the beach. Parts of the buildings had been hewn into the cliff side and wouldn’t collapse so easily. 

Tseng sat the target down without much care because he simply couldn’t afford to waste time and kicked the door down. Pulling the other man back up, who was by now barely conscious, they exited the building. 

There was still dust in the air, but it hadn’t quite rained down from above where another explosion shook the old warehouse complex. Stones and pieces of wall flew overhead. Tseng ducked down against the wall until the worst had passed. 

Taking a breath, he dragged the other man away from the buildings and closer to the cliff where he sat him down before he knelt and pushed the target’s hands away from the wound. He was met with hardly any resistance. From the looks of it the man was barely holding onto the last shreds of his consciousness. 

His shirt was completely drenched in blood and by extension the side of Tseng’s jacket. 

Reaching up, he felt for a pulse. It was faint. 

Tseng cradled the man’s head as he lay him down on the ground before methodically unbuttoning the coat and pulling up his shirt and vest. The bullet had gone out the back. That was something, he supposed. An entry and exit wound but at least no bullet that had to be removed. 

He took the healing materia from his pocket and used one healing spell and then another to staunch the bleeding for the time being and close the wound if only superficially.

Pulling his scarf off, he ripped it in half and put it to the side before removing the man’s long coat. With a small knife from his inside jacket pocket, he began cutting the coat into long strips of cloth. The whole process took longer than he had anticipated. Once done, he pressed the two pieces of his scarf against the entry and exit wound before wrapping several of the coat strips around the target’s waist. He pulled the shirt and vest back down. 

Tseng sat back and took a deep breath, noticing his erratic pulse for the first time. He pulled his phone from his jacket pocket.

/Call in once it’s done./ 

Switching the phone off, he slowly took it apart and smashed the tracking device before stuffing the parts back into his pocket. No sense in leaving a trail for the clean-up crew. 

His gaze strayed to the unconscious Rufus, watching the slow rise and fall of his chest. It still looked shallow but steady. He wondered what the official story would look like _and_ the unofficial one. 

Turk gone rogue and killed the vice president? 

The thought almost made him laugh.

It had been his job to kill the vice president. He could’ve just let him be buried under the rubble. But it didn’t matter anymore if he finished this job, because he couldn’t return to HQ. 

What now? 

Tseng leaned back against the cliff, pulling his knees up and resting his elbows on them. 

He couldn’t say he’d seen this moment coming but maybe he should’ve once they had given him the mission. Veld had done so personally because he knew he wouldn’t hesitate to finish a job. Maybe he should be angry but somehow he couldn’t be. He would’ve done exactly the same. 

Choose someone capable. Someone loyal. 

Or had Veld not known? Did it even matter? 

Rufus stirred and blinked his eyes open slowly, taking in his surroundings before his gaze stopped on Tseng and he tensed up, trying to rise and failing. He fell back against the ground with a groan. 

Clenching his eyes shut, Rufus’ nostrils flared. “You shot me.”

Tseng watched him calmly. 

“You-”

“You shouldn’t move. I’ve stopped the bleeding. But you’ve lost a lot of blood, so try not to open the wounds again.”

The look Rufus gave him was nothing short of hateful. “The fuck are you talking about?”

“Just lie still.”

Tseng looked out onto the ocean. They should probably move. There would be a clean-up crew scouring the area soon enough. Maybe they could stay another hour but it was risky. 

“They’ll check for survivors. We need to move soon.”

“My father’s orders… weren’t they?”

“Yes.”

“So why drag me out here?”

“I don’t know.”

Rufus laughed which broke off into a pained cough. 

They sat in silence for a while. The only sound the soft lap of the waves and the occasional rumble from the nearby buildings. The seagulls had temporarily been scared away by the explosions. 

Tseng found his mind wandering. He was exhausted. Leaning his forehead against his folded arms, he closed his eyes with a quiet sigh. 

Rufus didn’t talk again which was just as well. 

The set-up seemed so obvious now. A mission to kill the vice president, the president’s son, ordered by the President himself. Everyone who knew about it was a liability. Perhaps the President trusted Veld to keep his mouth shut but a small operative like him? Nothing ensured a man’s silence better than his death. 

It was almost ironic. 

When he found himself drifting off, Tseng raised his head and mentally shook himself. Getting to his feet, he dusted the dirt off as best as he could before saying, “We should go.”

Rufus watched him speculatively. “I can’t even sit up.”

“I know.” Bending down, he slipped one arm around Rufus’ back and carefully sat him up as Rufus gritted his teeth, face screwed up in pain. “Hold on to me if you can, I’ll pull you up.”

Clutching at Tseng’s upper arms, Tseng pulled Rufus to his feet, immediately wrapping one arm around the man’s back as Rufus’ legs gave out. Tseng caught him and pulled Rufus’ arm over his shoulders, hoisting him up into a semi-steady position. 

“Can you stand at all?” 

Rufus cursed under his breath, trying to steady his legs. “I’ll try.” More cursing followed. “You fucking son of a-” He broke off and hissed in a pained breath. “Never learned to shoot your damn targets in the head?”

Tseng huffed. “I still have bullets left. Want me to try again?”

“Fuck you.”

They trudged along the shore at a snail’s pace. 

Tseng noted his own apathy at the situation as he tried to mentally go through their next possible steps. With the healing materia and painkillers he carried, he’d be able to keep Rufus alive and on his feet long enough for them to reach a doctor. 

The problem that came after was how they would pay the doctor and where to go from there. Neither of them had any cash on them and using any other methods of payment would make them traceable. 

“My father… he knew…”

“Yes.”

“How much?”

“Everything.”

“You-“

“Yes, I was working for your father as a spy.”

“I’ll kill you for...”

Tseng shrugged as much as that was possible while almost carrying Rufus. “You’ll have to be fast or somebody might beat you to it.”

He spotted a gap in the cliffs and manoeuvred them to it, to find that it housed a staircase leading up and away from the beach. They should be far enough away from the warehouse complex that they could risk leaving the beach. Out in the open they would be easily spotted either way. 

It couldn’t be long for Shinra to send in the clean-up crew. There was no way to run from the helicopters. He would know. 

They stopped at the bottom of the steps.

Tseng looked up the stairs. They were very steep and went quite some ways up. 

“Fuck that.” Rufus’ gaze had followed his own. 

“I’ll carry you. Climb on my back.”

Rufus glared at him. “Why are you helping me?”

“Because it doesn’t matter anymore. C’mon.” He moved Rufus’ arm off his shoulders and tried to steady him before crouching down enough for Rufus to climb onto his back. It took a few attempts and by the time they had managed, they were both breathless and sweaty. 

Tseng glanced up the stairs once more with a sigh before keeping his gaze on the steps right in front of him. If he didn’t look at how far it still was, it might not feel as difficult or long. 

Hoisting Rufus up a little bit higher to get a better grip on his legs and prevent Rufus from putting unnecessary pressure on his wound, Tseng took the first step, steeling himself for the longest stair climb of his life. 

It was probably best to hide out for at least a day or two before going out in search of a doctor. The only thing they would need in the meantime was food and water. 

After only a few minutes his legs were burning but he refused to look up. Rufus had leaned his forehead against Tseng's shoulder and from his even breathing, Tseng wondered if he'd lost consciousness. Behind them the scream of seagulls took up again. 

The stairs looked cobbled together from all sorts of driftwood but they appeared solid enough, even for the weight of two grown man. There were even railings on both sides, not that he had a hand free to use them. The longest stairway of his life, indeed. 

When he finally reached the top, his lung was burning and his legs trembling. He glanced at Rufus and found him asleep or passed out. He hadn't meant to carry him further than up the stairs but it seemed he would have to. 

Slowly, Tseng turned around and let his eyes wander over the beach below and the strait beyond. The dust from the explosion still hadn’t settled completely. It hung in the air like a dark cloud. He remained where he was for a little longer to catch his breath and wait for some strength to return to his legs.

Where to now?

Tseng set off eastwards, away from Junon. Once the figurative dust had settled they'd return and look for a doctor. He didn't want to think about what came afterwards.

It had to be close to five o’clock by now. The sun stood low over the strait.

He kept walking long past how far he thought his legs would carry them, not really looking where they were going either as long as it was away from Junon.

He hadn’t died in that warehouse but his life was over all the same. 

If they had sent another Turk to do the job, would Tseng have cared? Would he have believed the cover story? He couldn't say. The top priority of every Turk was to finish the job. He could've died with some honour knowing he had fulfilled his duty to the end.

So why had he run? Why had he saved his own life and above all else Rufus' too?

He concentrated on walking again, eyes straying to the ocean as the sun touched it. It would've been a view he'd have appreciated under different circumstances.

"Where are we going?"

Away.

Somewhere.

_I don't know._

"Somewhere to hide out until the dust settles. I'll take you to a doctor afterwards." He hadn’t realised how winded he was but he didn't want to stop walking. His feet had started to hurt too and his hands were feeling numb against Rufus' thighs.

“We should stop. You’re ready to fall over.”

Tseng glanced at Rufus. “And what do you care?” His words didn’t sound harsh, just tired. 

“I don’t want you to drop me.”

Tseng smiled humourlessly. “Fair enough. We’ll stop soon.” 

There had always been some distance between them. It had been intentional on Tseng’s part. The worst thing an operative who had to first get close to a target before dispatching them, could do, was accidentally getting too close to said target. If it didn’t mess with their ability to do their job, it would always leave a bad aftertaste and once the next job rolled around, the operative would have reservations, recalling what it had felt like to kill someone they had somehow grown to like. 

Had Rufus never noticed or just not cared? 

He knew Rufus had tried to… befriend him, for a lack of a better word, but Tseng had always refused him as politely as possible. He didn’t want to raise any suspicions after all. 

And now. 

Did they hate each other? Rufus might hate him and for good reason. But Tseng felt nothing. This had been a job. No hard feelings. What a joke. 

Tseng stopped and started laughing. 

“What is wrong with you?” 

Shaking his head, his laugh turned into a chuckle. “What a shitshow,” he said under his breath. 

“You can say that again,” Rufus said quietly. 

Tseng glanced at him but Rufus had his head turned away. 

Should he apologise? He didn’t feel sorry and what did it matter anyway. It wouldn’t change their situation, it wouldn’t heal Rufus’ wounds. How did one even apologise for an attempt on someone’s life? 

They walked along the cliffs for another ten, maybe twenty minutes, the motion had become automatic as he ignored his protesting legs. The sea breeze was pleasant against his face, drying his sweat and the evening sun was still warm enough to keep the chill away. 

When they reached a few rundown shacks far out of town, Tseng stopped. 

“We’ll stay here tonight.” It took a moment for him to will his arms to move again, so stiff had they become. Carefully he lowered Rufus to the ground who managed to stand on unsteady legs. He tried to shake some life back into his limbs and the dull ache off, before slipping an arm around Rufus’ waist again and pulling one of Rufus’ arms over his shoulders. 

Throughout all of this Rufus was unusually quiet but he must be exhausted from the wound. 

As they turned towards the decrepit hut, Tseng looked back towards Junon. In the twilight he could make out the few fires that still burned down what remained of the warehouses. After a moment, he thought he could spot a small black dot in the air above the smoking grounds. 

The helicopters must’ve been dispatched from Junon or they would’ve passed overhead. It was just as well or they would’ve no doubt spotted Rufus and him. 

“They’re looking for our bodies.” 

Tseng glanced at Rufus but didn’t comment. 

Their bodies. 

He thought back to his vision of Rufus lying in the warehouse, bleeding out. It would’ve only taken another straight shot, if he hadn’t fumbled the first, if the explosion hadn’t gone off when it did. Had he taken too long? They must’ve had an estimated timeframe for how long it would take Tseng to kill Rufus before making his way back out of the warehouse. 

“Maybe they’ll think the fire has destroyed our remains.”

Tseng started moving them towards the hut. “I wonder.”

Kicking the door open, he stood in the doorway for a moment, waiting for his eyes to adjust. It was exactly what he had expected. Mostly empty, with the lone piece of broken down furniture here and there. The roof was still intact which was something, even though most of the windows were at least cracked. 

It never got as cold in the Junon area as it did around Midgar. They should be fine during the night. 

Tseng lowered Rufus onto an old mattress that didn’t smell as bad as he would’ve expected and propped him up against the wall into a sitting position. “Is that alright or do you want to lie down?”

“It’s fine.”

Nodding, Tseng straightened back up and walked back towards the door. He watched the black flecks in the distance. How quickly would they widen their search? Would the search continue through the night? They were as far away as he could take them. The only thing they could do now was wait. 

He didn’t like it. 

Waiting always felt like waiting to get caught. 

If Rufus weren’t too injured, Tseng would’ve preferred to walk through the night. But that was pointless. They would have to return to Junon at some point. He knew it wasn’t the sensible thing to do but he wanted to be on the move, keep himself busy before his thoughts caught up with him. 

As if he could outpace them. 

Tseng closed the door and returned to where Rufus sat. Crouching down, he took the healing materia from his pocket and used another healing spell on Rufus before settling down next to him. “I have painkillers if you want some.”

“You know...” Rufus frowned at the ceiling. “I’d like nothing more than to tell you to piss off.”

Tseng said nothing. 

“Did you know you had to kill me in the end?”

He thought about lying but what was the point? Shooting somebody was about as personal as things could get. There wasn’t really a way to twist the knife in deeper. If Rufus hated him now, his hatred couldn’t grow much worse. “I suspected as much.”

Rufus scoffed which made him wince. “What a piece of shit you are.”

For a second, Tseng didn’t feel like arguing but then something tugged at his apathy. Maybe it was anger, maybe it was just objectivity. “Why? You never had a problem with me killing people on your orders or on your father’s orders as long as it wasn’t you.”

“This is what you say to someone after you shoot them?”

Tseng turned his head, face neutral. “They’re usually dead after I shoot them. So I don’t really say anything.” Bewildered, he watched as Rufus started to laugh despite the pain it obviously caused him. 

“Shit...” He didn’t stop laughing. “This hurts like a bitch.” Trying to catch his breath, Rufus shook his head, a smile still tugging at his lips. “You’re not even trying to apologise.”

At this, Tseng couldn’t bite back the snort. “What would you rather have had? An apology or me dragging you out of the warehouse, tending to your wound and getting you here? Not that any of this was some roundabout way of me apologising.”

“Wasn’t it?”

“No. I don’t apologise for my work. You knew who I was. And you had your suspicions about your father.”

Rufus sobered. “I did.”

Closing his eyes, Tseng thought about what they would do in the morning. They could just stay here for another day or two. He could venture out on his own to see if he could get them some food and water. Or they could move to somewhere else. The question was just if they would find another convenient shelter like this. 

Suddenly he remembered, how he’d returned to Rufus’ apartment at HQ after having gotten his orders to kill him. He’d expected it for quite some time, ever since Rufus’ connections to Avalanche had been uncovered. There was only so much the President was willing to overlook it seemed. 

Rufus had been lying on the couch, reading something on his tablet that he held up with both hands. He had only glanced at him when he’d entered. 

“Staying the night?” Rufus had asked, eyes still trained on the tablet, a smirk curling his lips. 

“No, just checking in before my shift ends.” His shift never ended but he didn’t need to have an eye on Rufus 24/7 now that it had been confirmed that he was working with Avalanche to undermine his father and maybe even kill him. 

“You know,” Rufus sat up, lowering the tablet. “All these months working for me, you never hesitate, no matter what I ask of you.”

Tseng had shrugged. “I don’t question my superiors and I offer advice when asked for it, sir.”

“Alright, then I’m asking for your advise. What would you do if you found out somebody was out to kill you?”

His stomach had clenched, but his face had remained impassive. “I would try to get to them first, if that was an option, sir.”

“What if you had some… reservations about the information you’d received? If you either aren’t sure about the source or couldn’t quite imagine that the person who was out to kill you, would do it?” 

Tseng had looked at Rufus for a long moment, sure that he knew what was going to happen in Junon. Nothing else made sense for this line of questioning. “I would err on the side of caution, sir.”

“And still kill them?”

“Yes.”

Tseng opened his eyes and stood. “I’ll check the perimeter.” He felt sick. Sitting down and letting his thoughts wander had been a mistake. 

Once the door had fallen shut behind him, he took a deep breath and then another. 

The sun was just vanishing behind the strait, making the water look crimson, much like the sky. He recalled Rufus’ blood-drenched shirt and vest, the mental image of Rufus lying in the abandoned warehouse appearing before his inner eyes yet again. The pool of spreading blood. He could picture himself standing over his body before turning away and leaving. 

A few more seconds, maybe a minute at most and it wouldn’t just be a figment of his imagination. 

Tipping his head back, he closed his eyes. 

He’d killed a few people during his time with the Turks. The exact number he couldn’t recall. None of those deaths had meant anything. Well, maybe the first few a little more than the ones that came later, once the novelty had worn off. The novelty of how easy it was to kill someone. 

Some of those people had deserved to die, some maybe hadn’t. It always depended on one’s perspective. 

Rufus had conspired against his father, had actively worked towards his death. Why should a parent’s love for their child be great enough to overlook such a thing, not that he thought the President even knew what that meant. Love. 

He didn’t feel sorry for what he’d done and he didn’t have any regrets for his willingness to see the job through to its end. It was a job. The target didn’t change that. 

But then why did he feel so… disgusted? 

Wasn’t Rufus the product of his upbringing? Could you fault a child for hating you if all you raised it on was suspicion, harshness and dismissiveness? Rufus was a very careful and suspicious person. He was certainly smarter than his father but then why… 

If he really had known about the President’s intent to have him killed and Tseng couldn’t bring himself to believe that it wasn’t so, why had he walked right into the trap?

Tseng drew in a hissing breath through his gritted teeth and opened his eyes again. 

_I need to stop thinking._

He scanned the sky and cliffs for any Shinra presence but even the helicopters were gone. Slowly, he walked towards the cliff’s edge, stopping only a few feet away from it. The breeze had picked up, lifting his hair and blowing it around him as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his pants. 

What now? 

There was nothing to ease his mind, except to stop thinking. To stop questioning and wondering. 

Tseng stood by the cliff until the twilight gave way to the darkness of the night. The sounds of seagulls had grown quieter until they had vanished completely. Far below him was still the surf. A fall from this height was unlikely to kill him, especially with the sand cushioning his fall. 

That and he didn’t have a death wish, he would be dead soon enough. 

He could taste salt on his lips. 

It made him think of the day he’d overheard Rufus crying in his bedroom. He hadn’t entered or made his presence known in any way. Instead he’d turned around and left the apartment. 

Moments like this had been a constant in the long months he’d ‘worked’ for Rufus. Moments in which Rufus had tried to get through to him and Tseng had rebuffed him. Moments in which he’d inadvertently witnessed sides of Rufus he hadn’t expected the man to have, only to turn his back and walk away. 

Somehow Rufus had still confided in him. Told him about Avalanche and how he was secretly funding him. 

Had all of this been a test? 

Tseng clenched his jaw, unwilling to contemplate if his eyes stung from the sharp wind or other things. 

After a few more minutes, he turned away from the cliff and returned to the hut. 

Rufus sat with his eyes closed or maybe he was asleep. When Tseng walked closer, Rufus blinked his eyes open and watched him silently. 

“You knew of your father’s plans,” Tseng regretted his words the moment they were out. They burned on his tongue and in his chest. He needed to learn to let things lie. 

“I did.” Before Tseng could say anything else, Rufus added, “But I trusted you. In case you were wondering why I walked straight into the trap anyway. I didn’t think you’d do it.” A small, humourless smile ghosted over his lips. “I thought I’d gotten through to you at some point.”

Tseng stood in front of Rufus, looking down on him. “I don’t think you really thought that.”

The expression on Rufus’ face turned rueful. “Yeah. No, it was a gamble.”

“You’re not a fool.”

“That’s kind of you.”

“I mean it. Walking into a trap like that was just… It wasn’t like you.”

Leaning his head back, Rufus considered him for a moment. “And yet here we are. With me still alive.”

Tseng narrowed his eyes. 

“Why didn’t you shoot me in the head? I know what you’re capable of.”

Because the explosion had derailed his aim. Only he had already pulled the trigger when the first explosion had gone off. During the second attempt it really had been an explosion that had interrupted him and the target had moved too much. And then what? Why had he gone to Rufus and dragged him out of the warehouse? 

“Maybe I know you better than you know yourself.” Rufus said quietly and if Tseng had expected triumph or some sort of smugness, there were neither. 

Wordlessly, Tseng sat down next to Rufus, crossing his legs at the ankles and folding his arms. His chest hurt. Maybe it was from all the dust he’d inhaled in the warehouses. “You could’ve stopped me.”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“I don’t like to get ahead of myself. And you are good.” Rufus sighed. “Besides, what if I _had_ stopped you? My father would’ve just sent someone else.”

Tseng couldn’t argue with that. 

“Once I’m better, we’ll go to a TV station in Junon. There’s an independent one that airs almost everywhere on the planet. The last one like it, I believe. By then, I’m sure, my father will have put the news out that his son has died in some tragic accident or assassination attempt. And they will air my miraculous survival. Once half the planet has seen me alive, my father won’t have such an easy time making me vanish.”

“This is quite the elaborate plan to come up with in such a short time.” Had he been prepared for all this? Tseng was mildly impressed. 

Rufus glanced at him with a smile. “Yes, well.”

“I underestimated you.”

“Likewise.”

They sat in silence for a while. So long, in fact, that Tseng was sure Rufus had fallen asleep, until he spoke again. 

“You were playing so hard to get.” Amusement coloured Rufus’ words. 

Tseng scowled, despite Rufus not being able to see it. How could he take all this so lightly? The President was out to kill him, he’d barely survived an attempt on his life and from what Tseng could tell Rufus didn’t have many allies within Shinra. 

“I wasn’t playing.”

“Oh, I know. But I am usually better at getting people to do what I want. Well, at least good enough to not get shot in the stomach.” Rufus chuckled. “I quite liked you, you know? Though I’m re-evaluating that now.” 

The longer Rufus talked, the more irritated Tseng got. “I will get you to a doctor and the TV station. You don’t need to try and manipulate me into doing that. “

“I know.”

“Then...” Tseng gritted his teeth. “Forget it.”

At some point, he fell asleep. Though every little sound woke him up. Every creak of the old hut and every other noise from outside. One time he woke up to find Rufus’s head resting against his shoulder and the man fast asleep. He was tempted to wake him up and push him off. 

Who was he even angry at anymore? Himself for failing the mission? The President for giving him the job? Veld for not telling him, if he knew? Or Rufus? Was what he had said true? Had he really, even if unintentionally, shot not to kill? Why? Rufus’ life or death meant nothing to him. 

When Tseng woke next, it was dawning outside. 

Getting to his feet, he watched Rufus’ sleeping form for a moment. The man would quite literally be the death of him. He drew the materia from his pocket and used another healing spell on Rufus before exiting the hut. In the distance he could make out helicopters over the warehouse grounds once more. 

The sun hadn’t quite risen over the massive rock outcrop that enclosed Junon from the east. 

Leaning against the hut’s wall, Tseng crossed his arms and watched the changing colours of the sky. There were small fishing villages along the coast that he could go to for food and water but without money they would have to steal it and… he didn’t like the thought. He wasn’t a thief. 

The door to the hut opened and Rufus stepped outside a little unsteadily. He looked pale but not as bad as he could have considering the circumstances. Rufus had a way of making the dishevelled look work for him. 

Tseng watched him with a frown. 

“My father’s sniffer dogs are already at work, I see.”

Tseng said nothing. 

Leaning against the wall next to Tseng with a grunt, Rufus kept his gaze turned towards the warehouses. “If you had worked with me, we could’ve dropped two bodies in there as a decoy. The fires would’ve burned them beyond recognition. Ah well, you got to work with what you’ve got.”

“To what end?”

Rufus raised an eyebrow at him. “Come now, you’re smarter than that.” Noticing Tseng’s deepening frown, he huffed a laugh. “You didn’t actually realise that they had planned for you take the fall for this. No wonder, you didn’t come to me.”

“I thought Veld...” He trailed off, feeling foolish. 

“He might not have known.”

“No need to soften the blow.”

Rufus shrugged. “I’m not. It’s possible though. Who knows.” Pushing his hands into the pockets of his pants, he took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “So, are you going to steal us some food or what?”

Tseng scoffed.

“If you wouldn’t always frown so much, I’m sure you could charm some ladies into giving you something for free.” 

That sounded worse than stealing. 

Turning his head towards Tseng, Rufus opened his eyes. “Half my maids were quite enamoured with you, you know.” A smile tugged at his lips. “It was funny hearing them whisper about what you’d be like behind all those walls you’ve put up. ‘He’s so handsome with his long hair and cold eyes.’” His smile turned into a laugh. “Can’t say they’re wrong.”

Tseng pressed his lips into a thin line. “What are you talking about?” The way Rufus’ eyes dropped to his lips had him tense involuntarily but it was just a short glance before Rufus leaned his head back against the wall and looked up at the sky. 

“Nothing.”

This had happened before. Several times. Ambiguous remarks and fleeting glances. They had unsettled him more than all the other things Rufus had ‘tried’ to get through to him, because he’d thought about them for quite a while afterwards. Was this some game Rufus was playing? 

Wrapping people around his finger by whatever means necessary? He wouldn’t put it past him. But he’d already made it clear that he would help Rufus, so there was no more need for any of this. 

“What will you do once you’re back at HQ?”

Rufus seemed to contemplate that for a moment. “Save your life, I suspect.”

Tseng flinched. “What?”

“Well, appearing on TV for all the nation to see isn’t going to keep you alive once we return to HQ. Or once I do. One little Turk can vanish without a trace easily enough.” 

Rufus’ words mirrored Tseng’s thoughts, but he’d more or less made his peace with it. He could try and run after dropping Rufus off at the TV station but… somehow, he hadn’t considered it. Sooner or later Shinra would catch up to him and what would he even do? 

“But… I’m sure I’ll figure something out.”

“Why?”

Rufus looked back at him. “Because I don’t want you to die.” 

Pushing away from the wall, Tseng took a few steps towards to cliffs, his arms still folded. He couldn’t stand looking at Rufus any longer. “I shot you.”

“Oh, I’m not likely to forget.” 

Tseng jumped at how close Rufus’ voice suddenly sounded but stopped himself from glancing back. He stiffened when Rufus rested his chin on his shoulder. 

“Relax. I won’t bite.” 

“What are you doing?” Their proximity set Tseng’s teeth on edge. 

Rufus laughed softly. “Trying to get the man with the nice hair and the cold eyes to loosen up a little.”

Turning around, Tseng took a step back and frowned at Rufus. “Is this some game?”

“Why would it be? Neither of us has a reason to lie anymore. So why would I?”

There was no falsehood he could detect, which only served to unsettle him further. He wanted to grab Rufus if only to push him away. He wanted to shout at him, wanted to do _something_. How could the man stand there with his unconcerned expression and easy smile as if none of today had happened?

Tseng had shot him. 

The only reason he hadn’t killed Rufus had been due to circumstances out of his control. He wouldn’t have hesitated. He would’ve… 

Except he _had_ hesitated. 

He could’ve made that headshot. He knew it. Deep down he knew. 

Tseng turned away, shoulders drawn up, and strode over to the cliff’s edge. He was so _sick_ of all of this. Sick of himself. Grinding his teeth, he stared at the horizon. Who was he even angry at at this point? At himself, he realised at last. He hated himself for what he'd done. And he _was_ sorry. Gods, he'd been sorry from the moment he'd gotten to know Rufus better. 

He felt his throat closing up and his eyes stinging. Pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes, he tipped his head back, grimacing. 

Why did his heart _hurt_ like this? 

Tseng didn’t react when Rufus stepped up behind him, arms wrapping around his waist as Rufus rested his forehead against his shoulder. 

He was shaking but he couldn’t stop himself. Covering his face with one hand, the other arm dropped useless to his side. He wanted to pull away but his body wouldn’t move. 

“I’m sorry.” The words burned on his tongue and down his throat. He was so sorry, he didn't think words could express it. “I...” Why was Rufus’ embrace easing the pain in his chest? _Go away._

“I know.” 

“You-”

“I forgive you.” 

__

_No._

Tseng knew he was crying, no matter how hard he tried to fight it. Clenching his jaw, hand covering his eyes – none of it helped. He wanted to run away from himself, even when it felt like he could breathe again for the first time since he’d stepped into that warehouse.

Rufus’ arms around him tightened and he could feel the smile against the nape of his neck. 

“One day you just need to forgive yourself.”


End file.
